Read Online Dreamsongs - Volume II by George R. R. Martin - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: George R. R. Martin
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girl.
LAURA
She obviously made
quite a first impression. Normally you don’t get so
involved with
people who knee you in the groin.
TOM
It wasn’t a knee.
Look, can you help her?
LAURA
I’ll see what I can
do. Did she really bite off his nose?
TOM
(glumly)
Just the end bit.
Laura can’t help but smile.
LAURA
That’s something.
If you bite off the whole nose they really throw the book
at you.
She finishes her coffee and gets up. Tom
grabs her, pulls her close for a kiss.
TOM
I’ll owe you one.
TIGHT ON TOM AND LAURA
as he puts his arms around her.
LAURA
(playful)
So, is she cute?
Should I be jealous?
TOM
What is this,
cross-examination?
LAURA
The witness is
instructed to answer the question.
TOM
Not guilty. Their
lips move together.
LAURA
Good. Otherwise . .
.
Laura changes direction. Instead of
kissing, she snaps her teeth together and lightly nips at the end of his nose.
Tom breaks up. They laugh together, then kiss.
CUT TO
EXT. - FREEWAY - DAWN
The burned wreckage of the semi still
blocks part of one lane and spills across most of the shoulder. A road crew
with a CRANE and a FLATBED TRUCK works to remove the wreck. The predawn traffic
is
WORKER
Last year it was
just freeway shootinqs. Now they’re using missiles.
FOREMAN
From now on, I
stick to surface streets.
Suddenly we hear a CRACK, as loud as a clap
of thunder, as sharp as a sonic boom.
FOREMAN
What the hell .. .
The crane stops; its lights, its engine,
everything. The big flatbed truck dies simultaneously. All the other lights in
b.g. also go off: houses, cars, streetlamps.
ANGLE DOWN FREEWAY - FOREMAN’S POV
Only two or three cars are in sight. All of
them are dead or dying: headlights out, engines giving up the ghost, slowly
coasting to a halt, drivers climbing out.
RESUME
The worker is banging a big emergency
flashlight against the heel of his hand, flicking the switch on and off.
WORKER
I don’t get this, I
just put in new batteries.
But the foreman isn’t listening. We HEAR slow,
ominous footsteps.
FOREMAN’S POV
Six figures fan out across the freeway.
They were not there a moment ago. Now they are. There are three men, three
women. The women are as lean and tough and hard-looking as the men. They wear
high black boots, black uniforms with silver metallic trim. Their hair is
cropped close to their skulls.
Behind them comes a strange vehicle, a PALANQUIN
or open sedan chair of black metal, as big as a Caddy, with long OUTRIDERS on
either side, as on an outrigger canoe. It FLOATS three feet above the roadway,
moving in utter silence, its line alien, suggestive, almost organic. A single
passenger rides inside, surrounded by a roiling grayness: the DARKFIELD, a
cloud that drinks light, making everything within vague and mysterious, like
shapes half-seen in fog. All we can tell is that the passenger inside is
hunched and massive, altogether huge by human standards.
REVERSE ANGLE
The foreman and his road crew stare at
these apparitions before them. A few have the sense to be afraid.
REVERSE ANGLE - TIGHT ON THANE
The leader of the six on foot is THANE. His
collar displays the insignia of rank: a silver pin in the shape of a hound’s
head. He is in his thirties, awesomely fit, with eyes like ice. A hunter’s
eyes. A warrior’s eyes.
His eyes meet the foreman’s for a second.
One by one, the hunters step aboard the
palanquin, taking up position on the outriders like footmen on a carriage.
Thane boards last. The palanquin vanishes
into the darkness.
THE ROAD CREW
stands in a stunned silence for a moment.
WORKER
What the hell just
happened?
FOREMAN
I don’t think I
want to know.
All at once, the power returns: headlights,
streetlamps,
LAURA
She obviously made
quite a first impression. Normally you don’t get so
involved with
people who knee you in the groin.
TOM
It wasn’t a knee.
Look, can you help her?
LAURA
I’ll see what I can
do. Did she really bite off his nose?
TOM
(glumly)
Just the end bit.
Laura can’t help but smile.
LAURA
That’s something.
If you bite off the whole nose they really throw the book
at you.
She finishes her coffee and gets up. Tom
grabs her, pulls her close for a kiss.
TOM
I’ll owe you one.
TIGHT ON TOM AND LAURA
as he puts his arms around her.
LAURA
(playful)
So, is she cute?
Should I be jealous?
TOM
What is this,
cross-examination?
LAURA
The witness is
instructed to answer the question.
TOM
Not guilty. Their
lips move together.
LAURA
Good. Otherwise . .
.
Laura changes direction. Instead of
kissing, she snaps her teeth together and lightly nips at the end of his nose.
Tom breaks up. They laugh together, then kiss.
CUT TO
EXT. - FREEWAY - DAWN
The burned wreckage of the semi still
blocks part of one lane and spills across most of the shoulder. A road crew
with a CRANE and a FLATBED TRUCK works to remove the wreck. The predawn traffic
is
WORKER
Last year it was
just freeway shootinqs. Now they’re using missiles.
FOREMAN
From now on, I
stick to surface streets.
Suddenly we hear a CRACK, as loud as a clap
of thunder, as sharp as a sonic boom.
FOREMAN
What the hell .. .
The crane stops; its lights, its engine,
everything. The big flatbed truck dies simultaneously. All the other lights in
b.g. also go off: houses, cars, streetlamps.
ANGLE DOWN FREEWAY - FOREMAN’S POV
Only two or three cars are in sight. All of
them are dead or dying: headlights out, engines giving up the ghost, slowly
coasting to a halt, drivers climbing out.
RESUME
The worker is banging a big emergency
flashlight against the heel of his hand, flicking the switch on and off.
WORKER
I don’t get this, I
just put in new batteries.
But the foreman isn’t listening. We HEAR slow,
ominous footsteps.
FOREMAN’S POV
Six figures fan out across the freeway.
They were not there a moment ago. Now they are. There are three men, three
women. The women are as lean and tough and hard-looking as the men. They wear
high black boots, black uniforms with silver metallic trim. Their hair is
cropped close to their skulls.
Behind them comes a strange vehicle, a PALANQUIN
or open sedan chair of black metal, as big as a Caddy, with long OUTRIDERS on
either side, as on an outrigger canoe. It FLOATS three feet above the roadway,
moving in utter silence, its line alien, suggestive, almost organic. A single
passenger rides inside, surrounded by a roiling grayness: the DARKFIELD, a
cloud that drinks light, making everything within vague and mysterious, like
shapes half-seen in fog. All we can tell is that the passenger inside is
hunched and massive, altogether huge by human standards.
REVERSE ANGLE
The foreman and his road crew stare at
these apparitions before them. A few have the sense to be afraid.
REVERSE ANGLE - TIGHT ON THANE
The leader of the six on foot is THANE. His
collar displays the insignia of rank: a silver pin in the shape of a hound’s
head. He is in his thirties, awesomely fit, with eyes like ice. A hunter’s
eyes. A warrior’s eyes.
His eyes meet the foreman’s for a second.
One by one, the hunters step aboard the
palanquin, taking up position on the outriders like footmen on a carriage.
Thane boards last. The palanquin vanishes
into the darkness.
THE ROAD CREW
stands in a stunned silence for a moment.
WORKER
What the hell just
happened?
FOREMAN
I don’t think I
want to know.
All at once, the power returns: headlights,
streetlamps,
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